


How far is too far?

by KendraPendragon



Series: My tumblr writing [19]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraPendragon/pseuds/KendraPendragon
Summary: Mycroft chooses the most complicated way to play match maker for his little brother and his pathologist.





	How far is too far?

“I really don’t want to do this”, Molly announced for the third time, sitting on a chair that probably cost more than all the furniture in her living room. She looked at the heavy mahogany desk in front of her. This would probably match the cost of the rest of her furniture…throwing in everything else she owned. The disapproving look of the man sitting on the other side of the desk made her cringe.  
“You should have thought about this before you told him.”  
“It wasn’t on purpose. Furthermore, he doesn’t know for sure. He only…suspects.”

“Which is bad enough. We have planned this out for months and your thoughtless remark almost ruined everything.”  
“I slipped…but seriously, wouldn’t it be better to just tell him?”  
“This is for his own good. We agreed on this.”

Molly avoided Mycroft’s glare.  
“I’m not sure anymore.”  
“Well, I am”, Mycroft insisted and got out of his chair.   
“Let’s revise our story.”  
Molly cringed again.   
“Mycroft, I-”  
“Do you want what’s best for him?”  
The sharp voice of the British government cut through the air.   
“Yes!” Molly replied loudly, wrapping the arms around herself. “But I don’t want to lie to him anymore!”  
“You’re the only one who can.”  
Knowing the truth of Mycroft’s words, Molly jumped out of her chair and walked over to the window, looking on the street in front of the Diogenes Club. Why couldn’t she be one of the careless people walking down the street instead of being stuck here with the terrifying presence of Mycroft Holmes?  
“Sherlock only needs a second to find out if one of his friends lie to him. And with me…well, he’d need five minutes, probably six.”  
“I’m his friend, too”, Molly reciprocated weakly.   
She shuddered when Mycroft’s voice sounded right next to her ear.  
“We both know that this is not quite true…Miss Hooper.”  
Molly closed her eyes in pain.  
  
~oOo~

 

The doors to Mycroft’s office slammed open. Sherlock stormed in, his breathing flat, his chest heaving, his curls in wild disarray. He spotted Molly sitting in the chair in front of his brother’s desk, arms wrapped around herself, facing away from him.  
Without any kind of greeting for his brother, Sherlock crossed the room in a few long strides and was kneeling beside her in an instant.   
“Molly!” he called out and when he saw her tearful eyes and the blue and red bruises on her throat, his heart stopped beating.   
“Sherlock!” Molly sobbed and hugged him tight.   
Surprised by her outburst, Sherlock froze for a second. Then he wrapped his arms around her small back.   
“What happened?”   
He looked over Molly’s shoulder at his brother.   
“I have to make a few phone calls. Don’t worry, Sherlock, this attack will not stay unanswered. ”  
“Attack?”  
But Mycroft left the room. Gently, Sherlock pushed Molly back at arm’s length. He wanted to inspect her wounds, but Molly hid them with a tilt of her head, obviously ashamed.   
“You have to tell me what happened, Molly”, Sherlock insisted, trying to get the swell of emotions inside him under control. 

Memories flashed before his eyes when those henchmen had attacked Mrs. Hudson.   
  
This was so much worse.

He had been able to be calm back then, to avenge Mrs.Hudson with precice ferocity.   
  
But seeing Molly hurt and frightened…it was driving him crazy.

He wanted to hold her, comfort her, two things he had forbidden himself years ago, he wanted to find her attackers and shred them to pieces – he wanted to hear their cries of agony.  
Even his body reacted to her state, he came to realize when he saw his hand trembling as he reached out to turn her head to face him.  
“Tell me what happened”, he repeated, trying to sound as collected as possible.  
Molly took another long second.   
When his hand wanted to touch her throat, she quickly took it in hers and rested it in her lap.

“I was running some errands on Oxford Street when suddenly I was pulled into a side road. They came out of nowhere, Sherlock! Literally! It’s Wednesday, so there aren’t much people on the street. Where did they hide? Did they shoot out of a gully? Roped down from the sky? Hid in one of the shops? Does that mean no one is safe, ever?”  
“Calm down, Molly”, he soothed her and once again took her in his arms. This was not only for her sake. It was good to feel her warm, breathing body with the strong beating heart against his chest.  
They remained in this position for several minutes, Molly’s head resting on Sherlock’s shoulder, her warm breath hitting his neck.   
“Tell me the rest, Molly”, he eventually demanded in a gentle whisper.  
  
His hand wandered up and down her back on its own accord while she told him the story of her attack of three or four men, robbing her and choking her when she didn’t want to hand over her wallet.   
“Everything was in there! I offered to just hand over the money, but they wouldn’t listen. It’s such a pain to go to the authorities to get new ID and driver’s licence. I will be stuck in those damned waiting rooms for hours! That’s life time I’ll never get back just because of these greedy knuckle heads. Mycroft has offered to block my accounts. At least one weight off my mind.”  
“Molly”, Sherlock interfered her babbling, the blood boiling in his veins. “Get to the damned point. Describe the men…please”, he pressed out the last word at the shocked look on her face.  
As another tear fell from her doe-eyes, he wanted to kick himself once again for his lack of social delicacy.   
Biting his trembling bottom lip, he carefully cupped her cheek and wiped the hot tear away with his thumb.   
“I don’t want to”, Molly whispered.   
“I need to know, Molly.”  
“No, you don’t. I already told Mycroft. He will take care of them.”  
“ **I** will take care of them”, Sherlock insisted.   
“Why?”  
“Because you’re my…pathologist.”  
They looked at each other. Molly blushed.   
“Please, Sherlock”, she said after a moment, now taking both hands in hers. “I don’t want you to go after them.”  
“Why not? Did they threaten you? Was this more than a normal robbery?”   
She avoided his eyes and he tensed.  
“Did they come after you because of me?” he asked in a raspy voice.  
“No, no!”  
  
The way she bolted out of her seat told him she was lying. So they attacked her because of her connection to him. Sherlock shot up, as well, stalking back and forth around this room, his mind racing. Who could have done this? Wasn’t Moriarty defeated, after all? Sherlock was very careful about everything about Molly. No one beyond their inner circle knew that they were close. He had even forbidden her to go his fake funeral four years ago. Where had he slipped? How had they found out that he…that he…that she wasn’t just any pathologist?  
Sherlock didn’t know how much time he spent retracing every single action for the past years in his mind palace. But at one point, Molly stepped in his way and grabbed his shoulders.

“Please, Sherlock, stop this! It’s over. Let’s just get past this and move on.”  
He shook his head and freed himself from her grasp.  
“No. I will find and destroy them. You stay here with Mycroft where you’re safe, I will go to Oxford Street. I am sure I can find some clues that will lead me to the criminals.”  
He was heading for the door.   
“No!” Molly screamed out in panic and threw herself between the consulting detective and the door.   
“Go out of the way, Molly.”  
“No!”  
Sherlock grabbed the handle and tried to force the door open while Molly pushed against the wood with all her weight.   
She was surprisingly strong.  
“Molly!” he shouted angrily.   
When she still refused to let him go, he simply hooked his hands in her armpits and carried her to the other side of the room.  
“Stay here!” he ordered her once again and wanted to walk back.  
Molly grabbed his arm.   
“No, don’t go.”  
“Let go of me, woman!” he exclaimed angrily.   
They wrestled their way back to the door.  
“Sherlock, please! Okay, you can hunt them down, but not yet.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because I want you to stay. At least a little bit longer!”  
“Why?!”  
He glared down at her angrily and saw how she was searching for an answer.   
Then her wide eyes settled on his lips.  
  
  


Sherlock let out an ‘ _unf_ ’ when she crushed her mouth to his. The sensation rushed through his veins and stunned him like an electric shock. But then she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him down and increased the pressure on his lips. And God help him, she let out the most erotic moan he had ever heard. Before he could stop himself he spun her around and pressed her against the door so he could properly and thoroughly snog her.   
To his horror he realized a second later that this had happened to her just a few hours ago in a violent context and he instantly let go of her.  
“God, Molly, I’m so sorry.”  
“No, no, no, keep going. This is good. So good”, she gasped and pounced him, locking his lips with hers again.   
  
It only took another moan out of her wonderful mouth to fuel Sherlock’s desperation and once more he pressed her against his body to kiss her.   
With a low growl he parted her lips with his tongue and entered her mouth to taste and feel hers. Her nails dug into his shoulders while she clung to him, answering his kiss fervently.   
With their eyes closed they stumbled through the room, not knowing where to go, just knowing that they needed some place where they could be as close as possible.   
  
They ended up lying on Mycroft’s table, his things wiped to the floor. It was easily big enough for Molly and Sherlock on top of her, his hips between her spread legs.   
Sherlock had his hand in her neck to hold her in place while their heads moved from side to side in the rhythm of their dancing tongues.   
Molly’s hands were under his coat and suit jacket, roaming his back up and down, scratching his skin through the white shirt he was wearing.   
Even after minutes their kiss kept being passionate, hungry and deep. They only parted when there was absolutely no way around it, panting through wet, parted lips. In these short interruptions they fumbled with each others clothes.   
  
In the first break, Sherlock shrug off his coat while never taking his eyes off his Molly, making sure she was really there, that this was really and finally happening. Meanwhile, Molly unbuttoned his suit jacket and the first three buttons of his shirt.   
Nonetheless the suit jacket stayed on until the second interruption, for Sherlock was too impatient.

He just had to kiss her again.   
  
So in the second snogging break the suit jacket went flying and Molly pulled the shirt out of his trousers. When Molly bit her swollen lip while working on the rest of the buttons on his shirt, Sherlock stemmed his arms next to her legs and simply looked at her. His heart was pounding against his chest and his head was spinning.

All thought was wiped clean except for two: That he was unbearably happy that she was safe - and that she took her sweet time to work on those buttons.   
  
Molly let out a triumphant sound when she finished the last button and they grinned at each other before Sherlock rested his weight on hers again, going back to kissing her.   
This time, Molly’s hands wandered under his shirt and scratched her nails over his bare back. Sherlock loved it. He spurred her on by pressing his groin against hers and sucking on her bottom lip. His pathologist let out a high-pitched moan in return and Sherlock grinned against her lips before his tongue entered her mouth again.   
  
  


It certainly looked like they were about to have sex on Mycroft’s desk in his unlocked office in the Diogenes Club, if Molly’s hands wandering into Sherlock’s trousers and kneading his ass cheeks were any indication.   
The shrill sound of Molly’s mobile interrupted them, however.   
“Oh my God”, Molly gasped breaking the kiss.   
“It’s just the beginning, darling”, Sherlock breathed and wanted to seal their lips again, but Molly turned her head.   
“No, Sherlock, stop! We’re in your brother’s office!”  
“I’m sure he doesn’t mind”, came his husky reply and sucked at her earlobe.   
Molly moaned.   
“Oh God, Sherlock…”  
For one second Molly wrapped her arms around him again and Sherlock wanted to jubilate, but then she pushed him away.  
“No, stop. We can’t. I have to get this.”  
Resolutely, she pushed him off of her so she could slide off the desk.   
Sherlock rolled on his back, catching his breath.  
Cockblocked by a ring tone. John would have a good laugh at this one.  
  
  
“Hello? Ah…yes, thank you. I’ll sent him over. No, no, I’m fine, I’m just…I was running. Gotta go.”  
Molly quickly hung up the phone. Sherlock had sat up in the meantime and was buttoning his shirt.   
He saw Molly take some stolen glances from his bare chest before she turned around.   
“Um…that was Greg. Apparently they have been at my flat, too. I told him you would come look at it…”  
“Of course”, Sherlock replied.   
His voice sounded colder than he had intended to. After dressing as quickly as possible, he looked around for his coat and found it in Molly’s hand.  
She was holding it out for him, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from their recent activity.   
“I’m sorry, Sherlock. I shouldn’t have…pounced you.”  
He took the coat and slipped into it.  
“I didn’t complain, did I?” he pointed out and made Molly look up at him.  
He smiled at her and cupped her cheek.   
“I…”, he was searching for the right words, “wouldn’t mind continuing this at a more appropriate time…and place, for that matter.”  
Molly closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. When she opened them up again, they were shimmering with tears.  
“If you still want to after tonight, I’d be happy to.”  
He frowned at her words, but Molly stepped away from him.   
“I’ll wait for Mycroft and tell him about my flat.”  
Her eyes fell on the desk.  
“And I better put his things back…”  
Sherlock looked at the desk, too. Then he quickly cleared his throat, nodded at his pathologist and swept out of the room.

  
After he was gone, Molly let out a long sigh and sunk down on her knees.  
Starting to pick up the items from Mycroft’s desk, she shook her head.   
Had it been worth it, she asked herself as she put the stapler back.  
After this, he certainly would hate her when he found out the truth…

  
  


~oOo~  
  
  


The taste of Molly’s tongue lingered in his mouth while he rode the cab to her place. Now that his head was almost clear (and his erection had come down), he could focus on the crime again. He would make those bastards pay for what they had done to his pathologist. Every single one of them. He would come up with something especially nice for them, even more fun than throwing that henchman out the window…

Lestrade’s car as well as John’s were parked in front of Molly’s flat. Sherlock assumed Lestrade had called John up, knowing that Sherlock would want his assistance on this case. Hopefully, he had brought Mary, too. Maybe her professional experience could help him find the right reply to this attack…

Sherlock swiftly climbed the stairs to the third floor. The door to Molly’s flat was ajar. Suspiciously, there weren’t any voices audible.   
Carefully, Sherlock opened the door and sneaked in, moving through the hallway soundlessly into the living room. He scanned the room for danger, just then did he see the blow-outs, the balloons and the banner saying “ **Happy Birthday!** ”.   
  
What the hell?  
  
“SURPRISE!”  
  
Sherlock jumped as John, Mary and baby Rosie, Lestrade, Anderson, Mrs. Hudson and Mike jumped up from behind several pieces of furniture and out of the adjoining kitchen.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!”  
  
Sherlock’s face was pale as the moon and his mouth hung open when he finally realized that he had been tricked.

The whole. Bloody. Time!

He was hugged and kissed and presents were shoved into his hands. Then Mycroft strolled through the door, a smug grin on his face.

“For the first time since we were carefree boys, I see the look of surprise on your face. I have to admit it gives me a pleasure of the sentimental kind to see you like this, brother dear.”  
“We were never carefree”, Sherlock hissed, bringing his face back under control, “and what I see is gloating and nothing else. Fine, you got me.”

Mycroft smiled and his nose rose as high as it’s ever been. Sherlock’s mood darkened.   
“Where is she?” he growled.   
His brother put on a crooked smile.  
“Molly’s just texted me that she is just picking up the cake”, John said as he approached the brothers with two glasses of champagne. “Don’t worry, mate, she’ll be here in no time.”  
Sherlock tried very hard not to blush under his brother’s gaze. John’s implication that Sherlock was impatient to see her was very unwelcome at the moment.   
“She did an excellent job keeping you away”, John went on, “it’s been quite a disaster, really. There was some trouble with the cake and someone bought a 'Welcome home’ banner instead of instead of a 'Happy Birthday’ one.”  
“I didn’t make the mistake, it was the online shop”, Anderson shouted out, not for the first time, apparently.  
“Well, show us the order confirmation, then”, Mary joined in, a playful smile on her face.   
They had been teasing him four hours, Sherlock concluded.  
“I already deleted it”, Anderson mumbled and retreated to the couch were Mrs. Hudson and Mike were chatting. John and Mary chuckled.   
  
Music had been turned on and the room was full of happy chatting while Sherlock sat in a corner and pouted. Not only because he hated surprise birthday parties, mainly because he had been tricked by the people he trusted most…and Mycroft, who unfortunately was making his way over to him.  
“Cheer up, brother dear. You lost. Accept it and enjoy your party. John and Mary have been planning it for almost six months.”  
“John and Mary?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow at his brother.   
“Well, they told me they were going to throw a party for you. The suggestion to make it a surprise came from me.”  
“That’s what I thought.”

A minute of icy silence passed between the brothers.  
“Why the scheme?”  
“Pardon?”  
“Why telling me Molly got attacked? You could just have set up everything and called me over.”

“Originally we wanted to throw the party at your place. After we lured you away John and Mary started setting up the place, but Rosie got a hold of the bunsen burner…by the way, you need a new kitchen table.”  
Mycroft grinned.  
“Nothing good ever comes from surprises”, Sherlock mumbled.   
“I wouldn’t say that.”  
“And why is that?” Sherlock asked his brother.  
“Hello everyone!”  
  
The sulking detective froze as he heard Molly’s voice. She had just stepped into the living room, a big pink box in her hands.   
While the others were still answering her greeting, Sherlock shot out of his chair.   
Molly’s eyes went huge as she saw him walk over to her.  
Without a word he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the hallway.  
“Sherlock, wait! The cake…careful!”  
But he didn’t give a toss about the damned cake. He pulled her into her bedroom and slammed the door shut, leaving his guests baffled. 

“What the heck is this about?” Greg asked.   
“I don’t know, but he looked positively pissed”, John replied.  
“John! No swearing in front of your daughter!” Mrs. Hudson chided.  
“Guys, guys!” Mary interrupted before an argument of how they should raise their daughter could start.   
All eyes were on her.

“They’ve got the cake.”

They stared into the hallway.

“Damn.”

  
  


~oOo~

 

Molly barely had time to put the box on the bed before she was hurled around and had to face a positively furious Sherlock Holmes.  
“Do you have any idea how afraid I’ve been? I thought your life was in danger! You made me believe someone has choked you!”  
Molly guiltily lowered her eyes. The so called bruises were gone. Sherlock suspected make-up, a combination of red blush and blue eye-shadow.  
“Mycroft made me do it”, she weakly defended herself. “I told him it was over the top but he wouldn’t listen.”  
“And so you did it? Because my brother wanted you to do it?” Sherlock asked angrily.   
“They’ve all been working on your party so hard, Sherlock, planning everything so carefully. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”  
“You know I hate surprises! This was just one of Mycroft’s set-ups to taunt me.”  
“It may have started out as such but over the weeks they have all become so committed to the idea and genuinely wanted to give you a wonderful party for your birthday, show you what you mean to them.”  
“So the goal justifies the means?”  
Molly blushed.

“You kissed me”, Sherlock hissed and Molly took a step back. And another.   
“If they haven’t called, we would have had sex!”  
“Shhhh!”   
Molly begged him with her eyes to lower his voice.  
“I can’t believe this! Our first kiss was a lie!”  
Molly froze.   
“Our…our first…”  
But Sherlock wasn’t listening.  
“In all these years thinking about how this would happen, not in a million years-”  
“…do you mean…there will be more…kisses?”  
“ did I imagine it to happen like this. Sure, I was assuming you’d pounce me one of these days. Because I looked too good for you not to, for example. God knows I’ve tried often enough, threw on that damned purple shirt you like so much…”  
“Sherlock?”  
“Or because you would finally put an end to this charade and tell me to cut it out already…”  
“Sherlock!”  
“…and tell me that since we love each other we should start being together, something like this. Haven’t worked it out in detail, yet. But this doesn’t matter now anyway, does it? You’ve ruined our first kiss. Betraying me with this horrible story. And you only kissed me because you had to stop me from leaving! Even I understand that this is the opposite of romantic. If I had done something like this to you, I’d never hear the end of it!”

Sherlock had a lot more to say, but as he turned around, wet lips sealed his. He mumbled a protest, but when Doctor Hooper wrapped her arms around his neck, Sherlock let out a sigh. Then he closed his eyes. And stepped closer to his bed Molly was standing on, tilting his head back so he could kiss her more comfortably. Then he put his arms around her. Underneath her blouse, to be precise.   
She let out a shocked gasp and leaned back.  
He grinned at her smugly. Furthermore, he let his hands wander up to her bra.  
When his fingers began to unhook it, Molly blushed and bit her lip.   
“Sherlock, we really-”  
“Oh, we are, Molly. We are. You have some making up to do.”  
With that, he let her bra snap open. She gasped.   
“So you’re not mad with me for ruining our first kiss?” Molly asked softly, her fingers weaving through his black curls.   
“Lucky for you, I’m not romantic.”  
She smiled her relief. But when she wanted to kiss him, he leaned back.   
All of a sudden, his face was dead serious.   
“Never do that to me again. Making me think you were injured or in danger. Not the kissing. The kissing was good.”  
“I’m deeply sorry for that. I shouldn’t have done this. Next time we plan a surprise party-” - “Please never do that again.” - “-I won’t listen to Mycroft.”  
  
Sherlock’s eyes widened. He blinked. Then his eyes narrowed.   
“Excuse me.”  
Grabbing the box, Sherlock stormed out of the bedroom and into the living room. Mycroft was sitting in the chair Sherlock had occupied before.  
“Finally! Give me that cake!”  
Sherlock handed over the cake to Mary and walked up to his smugly grinning brother.  
“A little over the top, don’t you think?”  
“Consider it my birthday present to you. In fact, it will be the last one. Nothing tops uniting you with the woman you’ve loved for seven years.”  
“You think you’re so smart…” Sherlock growled angrily.   
“I _am_ smart”, Mycroft replied coolly.   
Sherlock glared at him, then something popped into his head. He straightened.  
“Thank you, brother dear”, he said in a silky voice.  
“You’re welcome.”  
“Oh, by the way”, Sherlock added after he had already turned around, now looking over his shoulder, “you might want to buy a new desk.”  
He saw how his brother was thinking, then his eyes widened.  
“You wouldn’t dare!”  
“Can you be sure?”  
Leaving his brother to stew in his outrage, Sherlock hurried back into the bedroom and locked the door. 

  
He grinned when he saw Molly lying in the bed under the covers, completely naked judging from the pile of clothes at the food of the bed.  
“I’m ready to make it up to you, Mr. Holmes”, she purred and Sherlock forgot the quarrel with his brother, the friends in the living room and the party he hadn’t wanted in the first place. From this year on, all he ever wanted for his birthday was Molly Hooper, naked.


End file.
